The Quiet Fire: A Pilgrimage of Prayer and Revival Longing
Over the past 18 months, I’ve found myself on what feels like a pilgrimage into deeper rhythms of prayer. It has meant lingering in God’s presence on the hills of my local regional park, gathering weekly with fellow young adults for early-morning prayer in a café, and even giving the 2 a.m. prayer-room shift a go. These small, sometimes hidden rhythms have quietly shaped my walk with God and stirred a fresh hunger in me.
Along the way, I’ve been excited to witness spiritual hunger rising in different corners of the world. The word revival has perhaps become the Christian word of the year, used to describe movements of the Spirit and small spotfires of awakening across nations.
In London, I joined young adults praying late into the night with raw passion. In Rotterdam, I was swept up in the 24-7 Prayer Global Gathering where every culture and tongue worshipped together in joy-filled unity. In Melbourne, I watched a room of church leaders fall to their knees in humility before God. Everywhere, I’ve glimpsed hearts burning for more of Him.
Last year, I also travelled to the Hebrides, a cluster of remote, windswept Scottish islands marked by a mighty move of God’s Spirit in the 1950s. The stories from that revival still reverberate today: a house shaking during a prayer meeting, two elderly women who prayed faithfully for young people, and countless testimonies of God’s tangible presence leading to salvation and mission. Hearing those stories stirred my own longing for a fresh outpouring of the Spirit in our patch of the world. But my journey has also come with some valuable lessons.
Seeking vs. Striving
One lesson I’ve been learning is the difference between seeking and striving.
Seeking is healthy. It’s the posture of desiring God Himself, longing for His presence and power in our lives. Scripture is filled with seekers - Abraham searching for the promised land, Hannah seeking a child, the magi journeying after the newborn King, Zacchaeus climbing a tree just to glimpse Jesus. To such as these, God promises: “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:13).
Striving, however, creeps in when we rely on formulas or our limited perspective to try and “make” God move. It’s exhausting and, though often well-intentioned, sets us up for disappointment. I learned this the hard way earlier this year. After a combined church prayer gathering, I walked away disheartened: Why didn’t God show up in power? Why didn’t He ‘rain down’ on our city that night?
The very next morning, an email landed in my inbox. A member of our community shared how God had been quietly breathing new life into their story - one once marked by addiction, prison, and hardship, now becoming a story of hope and renewal.
It wasn’t the sweeping outpouring I had prayed for, but it was God’s gentle whisper: I see the one. I care for the one. I move in ways you cannot box in.
Perhaps this is what some have called the Quiet Revival of our time — God moving in the hidden depths of people’s souls, transforming stories heart by heart, His kingdom advancing in unseen yet powerful ways.
This Quiet Revival reminds me that renewal is not always loud, public, or dramatic. Sometimes it is slow and deep - a steady flame of grace reshaping lives from the inside out. And perhaps that is how true revival begins: heart by heart, until the small fires join together to light up the whole landscape.
Praying Boldly, Living Faithfully
I still pray bold prayers - for my community and my nation to encounter God’s love, for brokenness to be healed, addictions broken, and hope restored. But I’ve come to see that true revival is never just about a passing moment of hype. It’s about a lifetime of ongoing renewal, both in individuals and in the church, that overflows into the world.
As God’s people, we are called to humble ourselves in prayer, confess our dependence, and allow His reign to take root in our hearts. Zac Meerkrabs, whose self-proclaimed ordinary preaching preceded the Asbury Revival in 2023, wisely said: “Do not be drunk on revival but be sober-minded in knowing Jesus.”
Above all, we must never lose sight of our belovedness in God’s eyes, or of the lifelong friendship He offers. Revival is not an end in itself; it’s the overflow of walking closely with Jesus.
Like a dance, we learn to move with Him, attentive to His lead. Sometimes that’s a vibrant and passionate tango - God showing up in bold, miraculous ways. Other times it’s a gentle waltz, the quiet love that comes from abiding with Him. Strahan Coleman calls this the quiet fire.
The invitation is simple yet profound: to live attentively to an extraordinary God, just as Jesus did. As He said, “The Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing” (John 5:19).
A Call to Hunger and Trust
So let us keep trusting Jesus, joining Him in His kingdom mission, walking humbly before Him. Let us pray boldly, live faithfully, and remain attentive to the quiet fire of His presence. And above all, may we never forget to enjoy the presence - and follow the lead - of the greatest dance partner of all time.
Written by guest contributor: Caitlin Watson : Assistant Pastor | Community Ministries Manager at Coast Vineyard Church
